Perfectly Fine
by livewiresandwildfires
Summary: "Don't worry, kiddo," Fox slugged Alex in the arm, almost causing him to drop his pizza, "this psychiatrist is supposed to be a real brainiac." "Mmhm," Eagle mumbled in agreement. "Young too. Young and bright and top of his field, remind you of anyone?" / Third in my 'Perfect' series. Inspired by RugitusAstra's 'The Somalian Fallout'. / Rated T for strong language and violence.
1. Prolouge

**Third in my Perfect series. In which Alex needs a shrink and K unit lend a hand.**  
 **Rated T for strong language and violence.**  
 **Read Perfectly Normal and Normally Perfect first!**

 **Disclaimer: Any recognizable works are not my own. Alex Rider and his universe belong to Anthony Horowitz.**

 **This story was inspired by 'Somalian Fallout' by RugitusAstra. If you like this story, go read theirs!**

* * *

 _"Mr. San Luca? I have some information about what we discussed a few days ago."_

"Already? Wow, SO works fast," Wolf replied over the phone, "What have you got, Mrs. J?"

 _"A British man, though he's living in America at the moment. Supposedly he's at the top of his field."_

"And does he have the clearance level?"

 _"He certainly will, I'll have to pull some strings with the CIA, but it shouldn't be a problem. He's worked for the CIA and FBI before, as well as the Pentagon."_

"And then what? Will he come back to London?"

 _"Oh no, probably not. Most likely you'll have to go to him. Don't worry, I'll put you in contact with a CIA liaison. She'll get everything in order. You just worry about Alex."_

"Not a problem, Mrs. Jones. I always worry about Alex."

Wolf heard a soft laugh over the receiver.

 _"Don't we all?"_

* * *

Wolf almost felt bad, going behind Cub's back like this. But Cub was always so evasive. The kid had the rare skill of being able to talk and talk and never actually tell you anything.

Wolf knew that the kind of help Cub needed was high above what K unit could provide. This was the only solution. Sorry kid - but not really.

* * *

"What do you mean you found me a _psychologist_?" Cub ground out, but his voice held little bite.

"I mean what I said, Cub. We found you a psychologist,. Well, a psychiatrist technically - an actual doctor!" Wolf retorted. "I hear he's supposed to be brilliant."

"Supposed to be? That's reassuring, "Cub snarked sarcastically. "We're really going to make the hop, skip, jump over the pond just to meet this guy?" he continued incredulously, "and anyway, how many times do I have say it before you get it through your thick skulls? I don't need a shrink!" Cub nearly shouted, trademark scowl on his face.

"I mean, Cub. You kind of do," Eagle commented. Then backtracked upon seeing the fury rise in the Cub's eyes. "I mean, we all see shrinks, Cub! And our jobs aren't half as crazy as yours."

Cub scoffed and continued scowling, "I'm not _fragile_."

"Yeah, well, you're not immortal either. And Morocco took it's toll."

"We just want you to try it, Cub. One session, please?" Fox pleaded. "And if you really don't think it'll help, you don't have to go back."

Cub ran a hand through his already ruffled hair, "You guys are really gonna drag this out, huh?"

"Yep," four voices chimed in unison.

Cub let out an exasperated "fine," inducing a cheer from everyone present. "But only so you'll all shut up about it."

K unit exchanged triumphant smiles, high fives all around.

Cub's scowl lessened, but only slightly. Wolf couldn't tell, but he guessed Cub was rolling his eyes. Cub then pushed his sunglasses slightly up his nose, the mirrored lenses reflecting the unit as they celebrated.

"One more condition, though," Cub cut into their celebratory high fives.

The unit eyed Cub warily, wondering what spy shit he was about to pull.

"I'm not on dinner duty tonight."

As Cub was the only member of the unit who was even remotely talented at cooking, this was a punishment worse than death.

Wolf watched Eagle skim his eyes over the rooms occupants before shouting, "not it!"

Wolf copied him, quickly followed by Snake.

"Not- oh shit," Fox said, just a microsecond too late.

* * *

To Alex, watching the horror spread over Fox's face almost made up for the shrink session he'd have to endure. Almost.

But anyway, it was only one session. How bad could it really be?

Then again, he was Alex Rider. With his track record, he really shouldn't test his luck.

What did they call it? Tempting fate?

* * *

"So this shrink," Alex said through a mouth full of takeout pizza (because there was no way in hell Fox was going to cook, not after _the incident_ ), "he won't be anything like Flint, from BB, will he?"

"Rest assured, Cub," Wolf said, pointed at him with the tip of his pizza slice, "we would never put you at the mercy of that idiot again."

"Great, what about Doctor Torres? Anything like her? Because if I'm honest, I'm a little tired of talking circles around people who are supposed to be professionals."

"Don't worry, kiddo," Fox slugged Alex in the arm, almost causing him to drop his pizza, "this psychiatrist is supposed to be a real brainiac."

"Mmhm," Eagle mumbled in agreement. "Young too. Young and bright and top of his field, remind you of anyone?"

"No, who?" Alex asked, straight faced, his sunglasses adding to the poker face effect.  
K unit laughed at Alex's antics.

"But seriously, Cub," Snake said, "you might even like this one."

"Pft, I'd better. I'm taking a 6 hour flight just to meet him. Not exactly a cheap first date."

* * *

Alex sat cross-legged on his bed, duvet pulled up in a cocoon around him.

His duffel bag sat in front of him, filled with half heartedly folded clothes.

He had finished packing the regular holiday essentials; toiletries, clothing, electronics, books. Now it was time for the less common travel items; gun, bullets, bulletproof clothes, panic button, bug sweep and any other gadgets he felt necessary.

For some reason though, he couldn't bring himself to continue packing. Alex had laid one hand on his disassembled handgun and had felt faint. His stomach had rolled and Alex had collapsed on his bed, and there he remained, glaring at the pieces of metal before him.

All of a sudden, the fluttery feeling in Alex's stomach felt unbearable.

He abandoned the warmth of his blanket and stumbled into his en-suit bathroom. Reaching up, Alex tugged the aviators from his face. The harsh light of the bathroom blinded him for a moment. Alex paused, squeezing his eyelids shut. Colourful spots danced in front of his vision, like a dozen shooting stars in a black night sky.

He braced himself on the sink and looked into his fever-bright eyes. He was _so sick_ of seeing that vulnerable expression on his own face.

* * *

 **Dear Reviewers, any criticism or tips are always welcome! I don't usually respond unless you ask me too (I love chatting, but I don't want to bug anyone that doesn't need or want a reply), but I read and consider every review. At the end of each chapter I sometimes put a little part responding to some reviews - just if I'm not able to respond in privet, or if it's about something more than one person had mentioned.**

 **Next Chapter: Time for a fun family vacation! Though Alex might beg to differ.**


	2. Much Better

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey." Eagles voice resounded in Alex's ears.

Alex made an unintelligent noise, uncurling from his corner of the sofa.

"Bacon?" He asked, wide eyes blurry from sleep, though still hidden behind glasses. The 45 minute nap was the longest Alex had slept in days.

"Well, more like wakey wakey, packaged peanuts and eggos."

"Ugh, great," Alex said before promptly flopping back over on the couch. Even on a private, government issued plane, Alex still felt like he'd slept in coach. Probably with a screaming baby and bratty kid that kicked his seat.

"Common, time to wake up Cubby. We land in 20 minutes."

Realizing that there was no way he could fall asleep again anyway, Alex conceded defeat. He sat up and reached under his aviators, rubbing his sleep deprived eyes.

* * *

Alex walked down the gangplank, trying to stay balanced against the wind in his sleepy state. Once his feet hit solid ground, he looked around at the surrounding staff.

The CIA liaison was supposed to meet them here, to give them their hotel keys and rental car and such. Mrs. Jones had said it would be someone Alex recognized, and if Alex was right (which he usually was) it was someone Alex had looked forward to seeing again.

K unit quickly joined him on the ground, and they went over to pick up their bags from the trolley. As Alex was collecting his measly luggage, the wind changed direction; carrying on it a familiar voice. Alex's suspicions were confirmed as he recognized the smooth sound of CIA Agent Tamara Knight. Alex turned to her with a smile.

"Alexander!" Tamara exclaimed, holding out her arms.

"Tamara," he smiled in reply, accepting her embrace much to the surprise of his unit.

"Long time no see, Squirt. Heard you wound up in Australia after your little Martian moment. How've you been since then?"

"As if you don't know. I know for a fact that you were on the protection detail assigned to me when I moved to America."

"Oh yes," her face soured slightly, "sorry about that, by the way."

"No harm, no foul, Tammy."

The CIA agent smiled brightly, "Anyway, you've been back in the field since then?"

"Yep, living the super spy dream."

"Naturally, and who are your friends?"

"Oh, how rude of me," Alex smirked at his unit, watching Fox and Wolf blatantly check Tamara out, "this is my SAS unit, K unit. The two goofs ogling you are Wolf and Fox - don't worry, they're harmless. The actual gentleman here is Snake. And the one that isn't allowed to look at you, cause he's engaged, is Eagle."

"Pleasure." Tamara stated, as Wolf and Fox quickly averted their eyes. "Well, follow me then, Al. We can talk in the car."

Alex set off after her, his unit in close pursuit. He turned slightly, giving Wolf and Fox a look. Even though the sunglasses, he was sure they'd got the message.

The 'car' as Tamara had so eloquently put it, was more like a stretch limo in Alex's mind. Maybe things worked different in America, but any vehicle that took up more than four parking spaces didn't count as a car to him. A man in a prim-pressed suit opened the door for them, Tamara sliding in first, followed by Alex, then K unit.

"Buckle up, please, Alex."

Alex rolled his eyes, the sign of annoyance unnoticed.

"Yes ma'am."

Tamara snorted at his sarcasm, then proceeded to buckle up herself. She then pulled out a file from her brief case, the title on the manila folder said: James Lance, MD, DO, MFT, LPC, Psy.D.

From talking to Sadie, Alex had gathered a little information about psychologists. Enough to know the acronyms at least. Medical Doctor, specializing in mental health of course. Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine. Marriage and Family Therapist. Licensed Professional Counselor, the more universal and nationally recognized license. And of course Psy.D, Doctor of Psychology. Alex let out a sigh of relief, at least this guy was legit.

"So," Tamara started, "you're here to see Dr. James Lance. He is a very talented psychiatrist, and I'm sure you'll be satisfied. He resides in 761 Columbia Street, and his office is fourth floor, room number 8. Your first appointment is tomorrow at 11:30." Tamara held out the folder, but before Alex could reach for it, Wolf had snatched it away. Alex pouted slightly, but said nothing.

"Where are we staying?" Fox asked.

"You'll be staying in the _Ariel_ Hotel. Very fancy place, it's on the Main Strip, number 540."

Wolf pulled out what seemed to be a map from the folder, "that's a little ways from the office," he stated.

"Yes, you've been issued a CIA car. It has some neat tricks, Alex can show you the ropes, I'm sure. If necessary, we can set you up with a driver."

"No need," Alex jumped in quickly. He preferred driving himself, or at least being driven by people he knew.

"Alright, any more questions?" A pause, "no? Okay, well here we are. If you think of something, my cell number and office number are in the manila. And Alex has Mr. Byrne's number. Your room key is in the folder as well. Penthouse suit."

The limo door was then opened by the chauffeur, Alex and K unit made their way out. Alex gave Tamara a quick wave, it really was nice to see her again, and then the limo drove off.

The hotel was all grandeur. Modeled like an Ancient Greek temple. White, towering pillars. Ivory and gold inlays. Everything white marble. The hotel name, Ariel, was suspended in large silver letters. A logo next to it, depicting something that looked like a cross between a modern Mermaid and a historic Siren. Or maybe it was just the Starbucks logo, Alex couldn't really tell.

They made their way up to the top floor. Alex had insisted on taking the stairs, though by the time they made it to the top it felt like he'd climbed a mountain.

Upon entering the penthouse suit, Alex immediately claimed the master bedroom as his own, leaving K unit to squabble over the remaining rooms. Alex pulled the double doors shut, then tossed his duffel bag to the foot of his king sized bed. He quickly followed, launching himself up onto the bed.

And holy guacamole, was it comfy. Too bad he couldn't enjoy it, Alex thought, lying on his back staring with blurry eyes at the ceiling.

He flicked off his aviators, blinking at the rapid change in light. He turned them in his hand until the mirrored lenses reflected his face. Alex examined the bags under his eyes, dark purple smudges that were going nowhere fast. And his bloodshot eyes, making him look like he smoked pot competitively. He looked at his face a little longer, before cringing and tearing his eyes away.

Alex had never really been a fan of mirrors. He slid the glasses back on, plunging the blinding world of artificial lights back into a semi darkness. Much better.

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Alex's therapy session goes about as well as you'd think.**


	3. An Empty Room

Wolf raced out of his room, buckling his belt as he went. They were running late, _crap crap crap_.

"Alright Cub, move your ass! We've got to go!" He shouted in the general direction of the master bedroom.

Cub slid out of his room, dressed but looking slightly ruffled. Wolf wondered if he'd slept at all that night. Probably not, Wolf thought as Cub stumbled, narrowly avoiding kneeing the couch.

They made their way down several flights of stairs and into the parking garage. Wolf pulled out the keys Tamara had given them, pressing the button with a bell design on it.

There was a soft chirp that echoed through the underground parkade, and K unit followed it to the source. A sleek black Ferrari was waiting for them in a private parking stall.

"Holy- I'm driving!" Wolf shouted, lunging for the driver side door. He watched Cub out of the corner of his eye as he slid solemnly into the passenger side. Huh, he thought, he'd expected more of a fight.

Things became clear as Wolf entered the car, reaching for the wheel and meeting nothing but dash. He looked left at Cub, who had one hand resting on the wheel, the other held out for the keys.

"We're in the colonies now, Wolfie."

Wolf grumbled, but handed over the keys. The car purred to life, and Wolf mourned his inability to drive it.

He didn't even have to look at Cub to know he was smirking his fool head off.

* * *

Cub swung the car smoothly into the office buildings parking lot. A flick of his wrist and they sailed to a perfect stop in a drive through spot. Cub looked over at them, straightening his aviators.

"Now remember, we're in America. Drive on the right side."

"Got it, Cub." Eagle said with an eye roll.

"Okay, off you you go then," Snake gave Cub a shove. Cub replied with a world weary expression and an aura of 'woo is me'.

"Just one session, Cubby," Snake reminded, "we'll be here to pick you up for lunch."

Cub didn't reply, but instead tossed open the door. He waved briefly with two fingers and then made his way to the office doors.

"When he says 'right side'," Eagle began, "does he mean, like, the _correct_ side... or...?"

Wolf quickly shoved Eagle backwards and slid into the driver's seat. He turned the ignition. Today was a good day.

* * *

The young man standing in Lance's doorway was in no way normal.

He'd waltzed in with aviator sunglasses covering his eyes and a smirk on his face, looking more like an arrogant teen than the broken child he'd been led to expect. The kids body language spoke volumes. He was full of confidence, his smile self-assured. However, with the trained eye of a professional, Lance caught a glimpse past the bold facade. Lance's eyes picked out the slight tremor in his hands, and the way he held himself just straight enough that it had to be forced. He saw how Alex's feet dragged slightly. How he moved slowly, with purpose and grace, but not with ease. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, everything about him just screamed _tired_. Lance couldn't tell if it was physical exhaustion or mental.

Maybe it was both. Probably both.

"So, Mr. Rider-" Lance halted abruptly as his client winced slightly, "or perhaps you would prefer Alex?"

"Alex," he replied simply.

"Great," Lance tried for a smile, "Alex then. So, where would you like to start?"

A devious smile played across Alex's face.

"I don't know, Doc. Why don't you tell me?" The boy's voice bordered on venomous.

Lance blinked, cocking his head to one side. He had been told the Alex had been cajoled to come. Had even been warned that he might be difficult. But this, Alex seemed a _ngry_ at being here. That didn't fit, though. The anger looked real enough, but with a keen eye Lance could see it as it really was. A cover up. Hiding tiredness and... was that... was Alex scared? Of what?

"Why don't we talk about your family?"

Alex huffed, "It'll be a short talk."

"Did you have a happy childhood?"

Alex plopped down on the couch across from him. The boy seemed to consider for a second. His shaded eyes looked around the room, examining his new surroundings. Before he answered, Alex leaned forward and picked up a pawn from the chessboard between them. As a psychiatrist, lance was pretty good at reading people and analyzing situations; he used to visit Vegas, play poker. Then he discovered chess and found the intellectual game more to his liking.

"It was happy at the time," Alex answered.

"And looking back on it?" Lance asked, moving one of his own pawns.

"Looking back," Alex freed his bishop from behind the lines, "it wasn't much of a childhood really. I grew up fast, even if I didn't realize it at the time.

* * *

"You're cheating!" Lance exclaimed in astonishment, "you must be!"

Alex laughed, taking Lance's king with his queen. "That's possible - a solid theory. But, consider this, you just suck."

"I'll have you know I've competed and won professionally," he stated with mock indignation.

"Amature?" Alex questioned innocently.

That drew a laugh, "I should have the advantage, you know; I am a psychiatrist, I read faces."

"Which is a neat party trick, and yet... I've won black out four times now," Alex smirked at him, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose.

A question occurred to Lance. They had strayed from the original topic of family (Alex giving vague or outright false answers), but this might get them back on track. "Where did you learn chess, anyway?"

"Dear old uncle of mine. He was an interesting bloke, to say the least, taught me all kinds of neat tricks," Alex chuckled.

"And what? Your parents just gave him free range?"

"Eh, I don't think they noticed," Alex said, a different tone entering his voice, "they were too busy being dead."

A beat passed while Lance absorbed the new information. He really didn't know Alex at all.

"When?"

"I was pretty young, not even a year."

"So you don't remember them at all, then?"

"Not even the slightest." Alex finished setting his pieces up for another round. "Maybe it's a blessing."

"If you don't mind my asking, how did it happen?"

"Plane crash," Alex said stiffly.

Another lie.

"Ready to lose, then?" Alex asked, full bravado back. Clearly, he was getting annoyed with Lance's not-so-subtle probing.

"Always," Lance answered swiftly. That was a smooth segway, he thought, for a kid, anyway. Alex went to pick up a knight.

"Actually, before we play, can we talk for a second?"

Lance realized that talking to Alex is a lot like talking to a politician. He knows how to talk without actually _saying_ anything. So his indirect approach wasn't going to get him much farther.

Alex paused for a moment, not looking up. Then he nodded slightly.

"It's my understanding that this will be our only session together?" It was more a statement than a question.

"Yes," Alex replied.

"Your friends mentioned a few symptoms that you might have."

Alex was immediately on defense.

"They want to help you, Alex. For what it's worth, so do I."

"I don't know what they've been telling you, Dr. Lance. Really, I'm fine."

"It seems to me you might be suffering from chronic post traumatic stress disorder, one of the longest cases of it I've ever seen."

"I'm really fine, Doc. Scouts honour." Alex held up two fingers on one hand and placed the other over his heart. "Anyway, blackout or catch-the-king?"

"Nice try, Alex."

"I. Am. Fine." the kid repeated, and Lance could feel the glare through the aviators.

"Are you really? Do you really believe that?"

"Yes," Alex's voice was cold.

"I don't think you do, Alex."

"I don't particularly care what you think."

"Alex, you're not fine-"

"I am."

"You're not."

"I am."

"Then take off the glasses, Alex."

Alex's face turned to stone. He froze in his seat, then let out a deep breath.

Lance looked at Alex, "listen, you're a very smart kid-"

Alex interrupted him by standing up, glaring lasers at Lance through his tinted shades.

"Fuck this." Alex spun on his heel and was out the door.

"That was a compliment," Lance said to an empty room.

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Alex or Houdini, scientists can't tell.**


	4. Cub Was Gone, Again

"He what?"

Wolf's head snapped up at the sound of Fox's raised voice. He signaled Fox what the heck? And Fox flopped on the couch, turning the phone on speaker for the rest of the unit.

"The session was almost over anyway," the voice of Dr. Lance resounded through the living room, "I thought you would be waiting for him?"

'What happened?' Wolf mouthed at Fox. Fox made a gesture like, I'll explain in a minute.

"Don't worry about it, Doc. He'll show up later, he always does."

"Alright, well, call me if you need anything," the good doctor said. "Or if Alex needs anything either."

Fox was about to question Dr. Lance's last statement, but then the dial tone rang out. He'd hung up.

"What's up?" Wolf inquired.

"Kid walked out of his shrinking session just now. They weren't expecting it, and he disappeared," Fox pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "seems he likes to do that, huh?"

It was true, Wolf thought. It was Alex's favourite magic trick, the disappearing act.

"Should we go look for him, then?" Eagle asked.

"It'd be pointless," said Snake, "he knows how to disappear."

"Anyway," Fox added, "he'll come back eventually."

"And he won't be found unless he wants to be," Wolf added his two cents in a weary voice. Why was he even surprised anymore?

* * *

Wolf planned to bum around the suit for the rest of the day, awaiting Cubs return.

However, his unit had other plans.

"Come on, Wolfie," Eagle pleaded, "Cub will come back soon, and he's going to want food when he does. We need to scope out the take out options."

"I'm sure you're capable enough to do that without me." Wolf reclined lazily back into the sofa.

"It's a surveillance mission! We need our fearless leader!" Eagle continued to pester.

"Oh my- okay!" Wolf folded, "just to make you be quiet." Wolf groaned as he sat up again.

Eagle cheered, clapping his hands and swinging open the front door for him.

"After you, my Liege."

* * *

"Ijd gotch itd," Wolf mumbled around the takeout box handle dangling from his mouth. He balanced three paper bags on one arm, and dug the room key from his pocket with the other.

It took three swipes, but eventually Wolf gained entry. He led his unit through, and was immediately greeted by the sight of Cub. He was sprawled on the sofa, one hand flipping through TV channels with the remote. The other hand was holding a glass of clear liquid that Wolf severely doubted was water. Wolf dropped his plethora of bags by the door, not bothering to put them away or to the side.

"Hey guys," Cub acknowledged. "Ooh, Chinese."

"You're kidding me right now." Wolf said in a voice completely devoid of emotion.

"What?" Cub asked, sliding up from his reclined position.

"You ditched your psych session, disappeared without a trace, and all you can say is 'hey guys'?"

"Oh common Wolf," Cub tapped the side of his glasses, "you can't have been that worried, you ordered takeout."

"He's got you there, Wolfman," Eagle said helpfully.

"Anyway, it's not even 8:00," Cub continued. "If we leave now we can have breakfast on British soil."

"Leave now? Not likely, Cub," said Fox.

Cub have them a confused, petulant look.

"Yeah, come on, Cub," Snake drawled, "the deal was one session. You didn't finish."

"I'm not going back, Snake." Cub sounded thoroughly decided.

"You didn't even give it a chance."

"I'm fine, I don't need a shrink."

"If you don't need a shrink then what's the harm in one session?"

Cub made a frustrated noise and flopped backwards onto the hotel couch.

"No." That one word filled with venom.

Wolf walked over, knocking Cubs feet off the sofa and plopping down. He was worried. Cub was angry, exhausted, and unable to sleep. Cub always had nightmares, Wolf knew, but this was a different league altogether. The occasional glimpse Wolf got under Cub's sunglasses proved that he was right to worry. The bags under Cubs eyes could be made of leather, the kid was slowly but surely falling apart. And now drinking? Sitting this close to Cub, Wolf felt like he was in a bar. The liquid in his cup giving off the distinct pinched sent of vodka.

And by the scent of Cub's breath, which Wolf could smell from the opposite end of the couch, it definitely wasn't his first glass.

So yes, Wolf was worried. Cub didn't even bother checking in after the failed psych appointment until late in the evening. His clothes were dirty and rumpled and smelled like a bar.

"You're going back." Wolf grunted, unwilling to be moved from this point.

"Make me."

"I will if I have to. You're falling apart, kid. Grow up and admit you need the help."

Cub made a frustrated gesture. "I'm perfectly fine, Wolf. Leave it."

"You damn well know you're not, Cub. I'm not a moron, and you reek of vodka and whiskey."

"You're not my nanny. I can take care of myself."

"The hell you can, Cub! You're sixteen! You won't be legal here for another five years! You're not sleeping, you're not eating, pretty soon you're just going to bloody fall over like goddamn Humpty Dumpty. And what if we can't put you back together again?"

Cub made a noise, almost like a squeak. "Well, technically you are the Queens men, not the Kings."

Wolf made a frustrated growl somewhere in his throat.

"Go to your room."

"You're kidding?" Cub asked disbelievingly, "you're actually sending me to my room?"

"Yes, I am, Cub. Now move it before I beat your ass."

Cub gave Wolf a strange look before, surprisingly, picking himself off the couch and retreating to his bedroom. Vodka left abandoned on the side table.

Wolf turned to Fox, "maybe we should just call the cops. Get him charged for underage drinking and thrown in the slammer for a few days."

"Might scare him straight," Fox replied.

"Oh yeah," Snake snorted, "I'd love to be the cop that tries to book him. He'd be out in an hour and their career would be over."

"Well then what are we going to do?" Wolf asked exasperatedly. "If the kid insists on being a bastard."

"Not to mention making the hotel reek like booze," Eagle grumbled.

"Maybe we should just talk to him again," Snake suggested, "see if we can't sober him up and make him see reason?"

Wolf shifted from his spot on the couch, "I'll try anything once."

Together, K unit converged on Cub's bedroom door. Wolf knocked twice, but no answer was forthcoming. He placed his hand on the handle and found it unlocked. Exchanging a meaningful look with his unit mate, he pushed the doors open and entered Cub's room.

"Fiddlesticks," Eagle deadpanned.

Cub was gone, again.

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Alex is exhausted.**


	5. Bloody Hell Cub

**I allude to a part in my last story, Normally Perfect. The small bit of lost time when Alex and K unit were separated during Chapter 11, 'Ouch'.**

* * *

Alex could see his breath misting in the cold air in front of him. He watched it curl and dissipate, wishing he could disappear too.

He was sitting on the roof of the Ariel hotel, he'd thought scaling down the hotel might be too risky.

As much as Alex trusted his own abilities, he could admit that climbing a building while utterly hammered might not be his best idea.

Not to mention he was on the top floor, and if he climbed down in his condition it was likely he would be seen before he made it to the ground.

Midnight was often called 'the dead of night', but the fact was that even at this late hour, one could find others roaming the streets, returning from the town's lone pub (Alex knew from experience). The truer dead of night would come later, in the early hours of the morning.

He sighed, letting his breath swirl around him. The scent of alcohol evident, even to him.

He hadn't meant to get drunk. Really, it wasn't part of his plan. It was just, he had tried _everything_. K unit didn't think he was trying, but he really was.

He'd gotten prescription pills, had tried every over the counter medicine available, he'd even started drinking sleepy-time vanilla tea and _nothing_. Every time he closed his eyes he saw them. That bloody mission. Those poor kids. That little boy and that _little girl._

 _Those children._

Alex shook his head, dispelling the thoughts before they could properly take hold. He had ascertained a long time ago that some things are just better not being thought about at all.

He leaned back, gazing up at the now rising moon. Maybe he should go back, his unit was bound to notice he was missing by now. Disappearing twice in one day might be a bit much.

He scooted to the edge of the roof, peering down. But when his vision started swimming, he thought he might want to wait a minute. He couldn't tell whether he was still drunk, or simply exhausted. Though, he didn't really feel tired in the traditional sense. He felt like he was stuck between absolute exhaustion, and complete alertness. It was a weird type of limbo and it made him feel oddly giddy.

He leaned back again, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the precipice.

It's not that Alex didn't appreciate what K unit was trying to do, he did. He _knew_ they cared and he _knew_ they wanted to help. But Alex was his uncle's nephew; a spy through and through. The spy part of him didn't _trust_ , didn't _believe_ and certainly didn't _want_ help. And he's been burned before. A part of him simply didn't trust anyone connected to MI6. Because '6 had never helped him before, why would they start now? Part of him thought, you're a pretty good liar, and they've duped you before; they're pros. They were. They were pros and that distrustful, angry, stubborn part of him refused to accept their help, lest he get stabbed in the back.

* * *

The moon had ascended high in the sky before Alex decided to climb down.

His sight had stopped swimming, and was now just slightly hazy. The smooth, marble-like stone that ordained the outside of the hotel didn't give him much grip; but the multitude of pillars, and the Greek style carvings provided enough handholds for Alex to make a safe descent.

He landed on the small sill of his window, and slid his fingers under the window pane. He was about to open the window, when he decided against it.

He wasn't quite ready to go back, yet. He glanced around, peering at the neighbouring buildings and the streets below.

Mostly empty.

Empty enough that Alex could climb down confidently. He slid off the window sill, making his way down the side of the building.

He was careful not to go into view of Main Street, where the majority of people were at this late (early) hour. He landed on the hard ground, then went into the hotel garage. He had snagged the car keys off Wolf earlier, and thought a nice drive might clear his head.

He was still a little drunk, but Alex had driven in worse conditions before. He was confident that even impaired as he was, he still had more sense and better reaction time than anyone on the roads.

He drove around aimlessly for a while before stopping at a run down motel. He parked, making sure to secure a club onto the steering wheel. He didn't doubt there would be a few car robbers in the area.

He walked into the motel, shifting his fake ID in his pocket. The ground floor was a bar, and he kicked up a stool.

"What can I get for you?" The bartender asked.

The tender's name tag labeled him as the motel manager as well.

Alex considered ordering more alcohol, but he'd only just got sobered. Anyway, he was too exhausted to drink.

"Just a room, if that's alright?"

"Sorry, you're out of luck. We're all filled up," the bartender/manager informed him.

Alex forced a smile, "not a problem," he said, then politely excused himself from the bar.

He walked to his car and drove off aimlessly into the night.

* * *

"Yes, we're his next of kin-"

"His uncles!" Eagle interrupted.

The nurse looked at the four men, Eagle with his blond hair and blue eyes, Fox with his red-brown hair and brown eyes, Snake who had fair hair and green eyes and was _clearly_ Scottish, and Wolf with his black hair and dark eyes and Spanish complexion.

The nurse looked up at the ceiling, sighing. He then gave Eagle a look that said, how dumb do you think I am? Eagle didn't even have enough decency to look embarrassed.

The nurse just signaled for them to follow, then led them down the hall. He stopped them outside of an out-patient room, opening the door for them. K unit quickly thanked the nurse, then rushed into the room.

Part of them expected to see Cub, broken and bruised, wrapped up like a mummy and possibly unconscious. The sight they were greeted with instead was a huge relief.

Until Cub started speaking, "are you my dad?" He asked, looking directly at Wolf, voice full of sincere confusion.

Wolf froze, a wave of nausea swept over him. He licked his lips nervously, unsure what to say,

"umm, Cub- oh you bloody bastard," he finished as Cub started laughing. Cub pretended to wipe a tear out from under his aviators.

"Sorry dad," he laughed, "couldn't resist."

"You scared the shit out of us, Cub!" Eagle said sternly, "what the fuck happened?"

Cub was sitting on a white hospital bed, legs dangling over the edge. He was in the same clothing they had last seen him in, grey jeans and a red jumper, though he was splattered with dirt and oil, and there were slices in the fabrics.

Luckily, there was no outward sign of trauma. No bandages or blood or casts or I.V. drips. Not even an E.K.G.

"Car crash, Eagle. I crashed my car."

"Well, yeah we got that much," Snake snarked, "but how?"

"How do normal people crash their cars? I drove off the road. Into a ditch."

"Cut the bull, Cub," Wolf decided it was high time he jumped in. "I have no interest playing cat and mouse with you. You're not 'normal people', so what was it? Someone cut your breaks? Run you off the road? Was this an assassination attempt? A warning? What?"

"None of the above."

"Well, what was it then?"

Cub shifted uncomfortably, which was Wolf's first clue that something was wrong. Cub was a rock, he hid his emotions better than Eagle hiding the last slice of pie.

"Cub...?"

Cub still refused to meet their eyes, staring at a spot just over Wolf's shoulder. He mumbled something incoherent.

"Come again, Cub?"

He sighed, finally looking at Wolf face to face.

"I fell asleep at the wheel."

A moment of silence, then, "you... you fell asleep?" Fox asked incredulously.

"Yes. I was at a bar- don't give me that look I wasn't drinking, too- I was going to book a room, but they were all filled. I didn't feel like seeing you guys just yet, so I went for a drive."

"And... you fell asleep at the wheel," Eagle restated, still disbelieving.

"Yes! Okay? For God's sake, yes! I bloody well fell asleep at the wheel!"

"Alex Rider; teenage super spy extraordinaire. You snowboard down mountains on ironing boards in the off season. You parachute through roofs. You infiltrate assassin training schools and terrorist organizations. You've been to bloody space. And you crashed your car because you fell asleep?"

"Yes that about sums it up."

"Bloody hell, Cub."

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Alex finally snaps.**


	6. I Think I Need Help

Luckily, neither Cub nor the car sustained much damage. After a quick once over, Eagle deemed the car safe to drive.

Wolf shoved a protesting Cub into the back seat, 'You fell asleep last time you were driving, you really want to tempt fate?'.

They quickly made it back to the hotel, and Snake immediately demanded Cub go to bed.

"It's not even dark out, Snake!" (And Cub was right, it was morning now. What the kid conveniently didn't mention was that he hadn't slept all night).

"You're practically asleep on your feet, kid. Go to bed before I punch your bloody lights out."

Cub grumbled, but recognized that he would lose this round. He made his was into his room, Snake following close behind.

"And no sneaking out this time, got it?"

There was a mumbled affirmative, and Snake closed the room door, apparently satisfied.

* * *

K unit bummed around the room for the remainder of the day, lazily watching TV and ordering copious amounts of room service. Occasionally one of them would pop their heads into Cubs room; retreating with a thumbs up if the kid was asleep, or snapping that 'you need rest, kid' if he was awake.

They ended up turning in early, Wolf checked on Cub one more time before collapsing on his bed. He fell asleep minutes later.

* * *

If the sound of gunshots isn't enough to wake you up, you should probably consider a change of residence.

For Wolf, who was a soldier and trained to know when a gun _should not_ be going off, the sound of the shot woke him up in an instant. He smacked his door open, turning in the direction of the shot with his own weapon drawn.

The ear splitting noise had come from the master bedroom. Cub's room.

The whole of K unit converged outside Cub'd door, Snake was just a few steps ahead of the rest. The medic pushed the doors open, handgun held defensively in front of him. Wolf followed suit, ready to take on whatever enemy had arrived.

"What the _fuck_ , Cub?!" Snake near-yelled in astonishment.

Cub stood in the middle of the room, wearing pajama pants but the same shirt as yesterday. He held his gun, just lowered from where it was pointing at - a wall. What the _fuck_. The wall had a fresh bullet hole decorating it, flecks of white plaster fluttering around. Cub was turned away from the wall, the kid glared at the bedroom window before rushing over to it.

"Cub? What are you-"

"Be quiet," Cub said, low but forceful. He placed a shaking hand on the window, peering out like he expected a sniper on every rooftop.

"Cub, who's out there-" Fox tried to ask, but was cut off.

"Shut _up_. God, before you get us killed."

The unit stepped back, away from the sight of the window. Wolf hesitated before lunging forward to drag Cub back; if someone was out there, he didn't want the kid to be in the line of fire. Cub took a swing at him, surprised that Wolf had grabbed him. He snarled at Wolf, angrily trying to break away.

"Wolf," Cub said in a hushed, angry voice, "I _heard a shot_. there's someone out there."

Wolf tightened his grip on him, "Yeah Cub. I heard a shot, too."

Wolf got an incredulous look from his unwilling captive. "Then what are you doing? Let me _go_."

"Cub... I heard a gunshot, but just one." Wolf was getting worried now.

Cub still didn't seem to get it, "Yes, me too. Let's go find it."

Wolf turned to his watching unit, waving them away. They understood the need for privacy; a crowd wouldn't help Cub right now.

"I heard _one_ gunshot, Cub. _Yours_."

Cub yanked away from Wolf again, finally gaining release.

"I don't even have my _gun_ , Wolf."

Taking a small step forward, he looked pointedly at the Glock in Cub's hand. The kid followed his gaze, eyes widening in shock when he saw the gun. Wolf walked right into Cub's personal space, gently prying the weapon from his fingers and flicking the safety.

"Oh... I..." Cub trailed off, entering some state of shock.

The kid turned away, standing by the grand, king size bed. Cub flopped down with a huff and a blank stare.

Wolf joined him, sitting next to the kid and pulling him to his side. Cub leaned the side of his face against Wolf's chest. From this angle, Wolf guessed cub could hear his heartbeat; he took a deep breath, trying to keep it steady.

"Hey, Cub. Look at me?" Wolf tried.

Cub let out a shuddering breath.

"What was that, Cub? What happened?"

Just a shake of his head.

"You're hurting, Cub. You're tearing yourself up. Let us help."

"I don't know if you can, Wolf." Cub's voice had become soft and far away.

Wolf conceded the point. "Maybe not, after all, we aren't professionals..." Wolf let the point hang.

Cub tilted his head to peer up at him, "I don't want to go back, I don't need a shrink."

Wolf raised an eyebrow and huffed in disbelief.

"I don't want a shrink," Cub amended.

"He can help, if you'd only let him."

Cub sighed, "I'm not used to letting people help me."

"We need to change that," Wolf stated, "you've got people in your corner, now, Cub."

There was a pause. The silence neared down on him, the moments stretching out until Wolf was sure Cub had fallen asleep. Then-

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"Yeah, alright. I'll go back. One more session."

Wolf smiled, thanking the heavens above. "Good."

There was a small laugh, and Cub gracefully uncurled himself. The kid had gone from shell shocked to completely recovered in two seconds flat.

"This is coming way too close to chick-flick range for my comfort," Cub said with a smirk as he straightened, full of bravado again. Putting up a mask. Ah well.

"Now if you'll excuse me," he slid off the bed, snatching up his aviators and sliding them on, "I have to make a few calls, someone will have heard that," he pointed at the gaping hole in the wall.

* * *

Alex had been trained, painstakingly and over many years, to wake up instantly to external stimuli, not assume they were benign and leave the waking world to its own devices. So when a foreign noise penetrated his sleep, Alex acted first and thought later.

A gun had gone off. He was ages away from MI6 and was still being hunted.

The door slammed inwards, letting K unit enter. _Good, he'd need a little back up._

A blinding flash of head rush hit him, and next thing Alex new he was by the window. Creeping shadows twisted around the streets and rooftops, every one a possible threat. Alex spied a person, a man in a grey hoodie on a fire escape. He thought someone said something behind him, but didn't pay heed but to snap an order for silence.

Then a hand had closed around his arm, yanking him back. He panicked, swiveling to face his assailant.

 _What the hell? Why was Wolf arguing with him now of all times?_

Wolf spoke, looking altogether too calm considering the situation. Alex found it hard to keep track of the conversation, adrenaline pumping through him; roaring in his ears.

Then he saw the gun. Oh. His mind finally caught up to the situation. _There was no sniper, no one trying to hurt him._

And that unidentified noise that had jolted Alex from his tentative sleep? Snake. Walking past his room door. The creak of the floorboards under Snakes foot had been amplified by Alex's dream state. Magnified until it sounded less like squeaky wood and more like breaking bones.

 _Or maybe like the crunch of metal. Of a car being carelessly compacted and- no wait stop I'm in here please stop- and the windshield shattered and he was covered in glass and the car had already been through a shooting, how much more could you put one vehicle through?_

Then the door had caved in. It swung so fast it wasn't more than a blur and it _slammed_ into the wall. _Don't you know it's rude to slam doors?_ Alex flinched. The doorknob thudding against the drywall sounded a lot like the gunshot he had fired off.

 _Like every bullet he had ever fired off. Those small insignificant spheres of metal hurtling at them, at kids, and he looks like me- or maybe he is me? Alex couldn't really tell anymore. He wasn't sure he cared, either._

Alex wasn't entirely convinced that he wasn't being shot at. He was sleep deprived and confused and _being shot at? No, not being shot at. It was Snake. Then it was a door. Really? Yes_. But Alex was still itching to return fire. He had to defend himself and save himself and complete the mission and _where had that shot come from?_

 _Oh wait, was that me?_

There was a gun in his hand, then there wasn't.

Then there was his sunglasses in his hands, then there wasn't.

"Hey, Cub. Look at me?" A gruff voice cut through his sleep muddled mind. Wolf?

Instinctively, Alex turned towards the sound. That voice meant safety, right? But he couldn't see where it was coming from, that voice. It was too bright, too bright, and Alex was _blind_ and he couldn't _see_ and did he say something? Was that a reply? Alex's brain was still just a second behind and playing catch up was _hard_ and _tiring_ and-

"What was that, Cub? What happened?"

 _I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I think I need help._

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Alex accepts that much needed help.**


	7. Afraid to Become

Alex thought of what Wolf had said. This whole time, Alex knew K unit were trying to help. He knew that, but still a part of him didn't want their help.

Alex thought back to his time on the roof. He'd thought then that he didn't want K units help due to a lack of trust, but that wasn't it at all. He didn't trust MI6, and he didn't want the help of any intelligence agency.

K unit, however, had proved themselves to be different. The whole of the SAS had shown Alex that they were different, that they were better. Maybe it took some time, and there where a few hiccup's down the road, but the SAS had good people. Alex trusted them.

So no, Alex realized, it wasn't a lack of trust that kept Alex from asking for help; it was the opposite. Alex trusted K unit _too_ much, and he knew the feeling was mutual. K unit had just started seeing him as the spy he was, seeing that he could handle himself. And because K unit trusted him, Alex wanted to be someone trustworthy. He wanted to be strong and skilled and everything that he usually was.

Only problem is that he wasn't. He wasn't strong or skilled at the moment, and he didn't want K unit to see that. He didn't want to lose their trust, to go back to a child in their eyes.

So as a solution, he put up a facade.

He couldn't help but want to them to see him as opaquely as possible. He had to remind himself that he was not transparent, he was a _Spy_ , a _Veteran_ , a _Survivor_.

But, Alex thought, he is also a child. He hates it because he doesn't particularly think or feel like one, but still he feels like that is what's causing all of these inconsistencies.

* * *

It was one a.m. when James Lance's phone went off.

"Alex?"

"Yeah, hi. Sorry about the hour. I was wondering, do you have any open sessions for today?"

"Umm, ah, one second," Lance scrambled out of bed, pulling his planner out of his bedside table.

"Ah, yes, I have a free session this morning. 9:30 to 11. Does that work?"

"Yeah perfect, I'll see you then. Oh and Dr. Lance?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."

The dial tone rung in his ear, and he flopped heartily back onto his bed. This kid could very well be the death of him.

* * *

"When was the last time you slept?"

"Well, I slept last night."

"You called me at one a.m."

"Well," Alex blushed slightly, "I didn't sleep _all_ last night."

Lance made a note, "how long would you say you slept?"

"I don't know," Alex rubbed the back of his neck.

"Maybe 2 hours? I kept waking up."

Lance hummed, "when was the last time you slept for at least 6 hours?"

Alex shifted, clearly uncomfortable.

"Five nights ago? Or maybe six? While I was still in Britain."

"And before that?"

"I don't know. I can't remember. I can't remember anything. I can't think straight."

"That's what happens when you're severely sleep deprived."

"I don't- I'm trying, I just- God, I just want to sleep," Alex's voice cracked at the end. He took a deep breath and exhaled roughly. "I am trying."

"I know," Lance replied calmly, "but we can do better." He wrote a few more things down.

"Okay, do you want to keep talking about your sleeping problem, or should we move onto your alcohol problem?"

"Neither," Alex said brokenly.

"Why did you come here, then?"

The kid pushed up his aviators and rubbed his temples with each hand. He seemed to debate whether he wanted to confess something or not.

"I have flashbacks. Hallucinations."

"Oh. Okay. That's a common side effect of sleep deprivation."

"I almost shot someone in my unit. I didn't even know I had a gun."

"That... is not a common side effect."

"I just- I had a nightmare, and I woke up. I had my gun and I was shooting before I even realized."

Lance asked his next question carefully, "What was the nightmare about?"

For a second, he didn't think Alex would answer. But it seemed that the kid had finally come to terms with the fact that he needed to talk about these things to get better.

"My last mission, I was infiltrating a corrupt government in Morocco. Their army was picking up street kids, training them. Nothing I haven't seen a hundred times before. I got taken to the training base for kids, the oldest was 18, the youngest was no older than 12. But they made me, no clue how, even now. They chased me around Rabat, but I managed to give them the slip. I had already got enough information, the schematics of the place, number of soldiers and so on. SAS stormed the place. Most of the kids stood down pretty fast. I ran out of non-lethal weapons so I went to sweep the compound," Alex blinked back tears, now that he'd started to talk, he didn't seem able to stop, "I don't really remember what happened, there was a lot of gunfire. We tried not to hurt the kids, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. I remember I was trying to get to a room where they held the youngest kids, but someone blocked it. A boy, maybe 16, with a gun held to a little girl's head and I just- I just can't-" He took another big, shuddering breath. "She died. She died, and I was there, and I told her she was going to be okay, I promised. God, I promised her."

He wiped a hand under his aviators.

"The boy shot her, and I didn't even think. I pulled the trigger, and I killed him. He was a kid. Practically Hitler Youth. The girl died and I shot. He was a kid. A child soldier. Forced into service and I shot him and I don't- I can't- I can't sleep and I can't eat and I just- I'm just so tired. And I can't keep anything down and I just-"

He took a few calming breaths.

"I couldn't save those two kids. Two out of dozens, not a bad statistic I'm told; but those two kids are on me. My fault. And the nightmares aren't just about them, there's another boy too. His name was Julius Grief, he was surgically altered to look just like me. I shot him too, years ago. I shot him dead in the streets. I never used to regret it, but after killing that kid- I- I," Alex sniffed, "I can't help but think that Julius was like the kid. He didn't get a say in who he was, he was trained from birth. And I shot him dead in the streets. He was born into it. He was a soldier as much as that kid was. I killed them both."

By now, Alex was barely talking in a whisper. His voice portrayed just how broken he was.

"Just make it go away. I just- I- I just want to sleep. Just, give me something to help me sleep?"

He took another breath and looked up at Lance.

"It doesn't work like that, Alex," he said quietly.

The kid choked out a humorless laugh.

"I know."

* * *

They spoke together for the remainder of the session. Alex's problems were far from fixed, but the foundation had been laid. Alex promised that he would stay for another couple of weeks, to continue their therapy sessions.

That was progress in itself.

When Alex left, Lance looked over the notes he'd collected. He sighed, thinking back on the nightmare Alex had had.

He probably didn't even know the full extent of why that mission had messed him up so bad. Why it had triggered the memory of Julius, bringing his world crashing around him.

A child soldier. Forced into service. He didn't get a say in who he was, he was trained from birth. And I shot him dead in the street. The boy soldier, Julius Grief.

They were him, they were just like him. They were everything Alex was afraid to become.

* * *

 **Next: you can't fix your future without looking at your past.**


	8. If Look Could Kill

**Last Chapter.**

 **Details for a sequel at the bottom.**

* * *

"I wanted to talk about Julius," Lance started off, tossing his notebook and pen down on the table.

Alex froze, then shook his head, his glasses sliding slightly down his nose.

"Why?"

"You said he was made to look like you? That's some pretty messed up shit."

Alex laughed, Lance wasn't like other shrinks he'd met. He almost reminded Alex of Sadie, Eagles fiancé. Smart, good at his job, but still blunt and relateable.

"Alright, what do you want to know?" Alex surrendered. He was fully committed to this whole 'rehabilitation' thing.

"Why did you shoot him?"

"Well," Alex started, "he was about to shoot me. In the back, actually. Self defense, I guess."

"Not a chance," Lance easily called Alex on his bullshit. "Your first point blank kill, you'd need more motivation than simply self preservation."

"Self preservation is an excellent motivator, actually." Alex raised an eyebrow. He actually _did_ enjoy living. Self preservation was a great motivator.

Lance gave him a pointed look. Did this guy have a built in lie detector or something?

"I guess," Alex swallowed, "he killed Jack, so I guess it was revenge. Just desserts."

"Who was Jack?"

"She was-" Alex hesitated, he didn't talk about Jack, "my guardian. After my uncle died, she took care of me. But, she was more like my best friend. My sister."

"You miss her."

Alex let out a humourless laugh, "missing Jack is a lot like breathing; involuntary and constant."

Alex thought that maybe agony would be easier to live with.

* * *

A few days later, a few sessions later, Alex was once again in Dr. Lance's office. He started setting up the chess board, making a bold first move with his knight.

"Chess?" Lance asked.

"No actually," Alex said with a smirk, "I was thinking Go Fish." He smiled at Lance's split second confusion.

"Of course chess," Alex took pity on him, "we only ever play chess. And honestly, what else do you think a chess board is for?" Alex rolled his eyes. Honestly, Lance was smart and perceptive and dumb and oblivious. The doctor actually _did_ remind him of himself. A lot. Just like K unit had alluded to.

Lance pouted, "Sarcasm is the refuge of a shallow mind."

"Sarcasm is the last refuge of modest and chaste-souled people, when the privacy of their soul is coarsely and intrusively invaded," Alex snapped back easily.

"Am I invading the privacy of your soul?" It sounded like Lance was laughing.

Alex smirked, grabbing the notebook from Lance's hand and tossing it down next to his discarded aviators.

"Oh, just play, will you?"

* * *

"Thank you, for everything," Wolf said sincerely.

"It was my pleasure, Mr. San Luca," Dr. Lance replied. "And I've given Alex my cell and house number and office, I've told him to keep in touch. I was also thinking it's high time I visited my home country, so I doubt this will be the last we see of each other."

Wolf nodded, "hit us up when you're on our side of the water."

"Will do. Until then," Lance glanced over Wolf's shoulder to where Cub was chatting with Eagle. His sunglasses were being twirled in one hand, and the view of his eyes was now uninhibited, "take care of the kid for me?"

"Always." Wolf turned to look behind him, making eye contact with Cub. Wolf smiled, seeing how the purple bags had already started to fade.

Cub jerked his head 'are we going?' he asked silently.

Wolf nodded.

* * *

"Yeah, I got a full six hours last night. Mmhm, yeah. Didn't wake up once." Cub wandered into the living room, coffee in one hand, a sandwich in the other, his phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder. "Nope, no coffee, just like you said- hey!"

Wolf snatched the cell from Cub.

"Hi, Dr. Lance?" Wolf jumped onto the sofa as Cub put his food and drink down, preparing to come after him. "Yeah, Alex is a little liar, he's drinking coffee right n-OW!"

The cell dropped from Wolf's hand as Cub smacked him with a throw pillow. Cub quickly picked up the phone, but the damage had been done.

Wolf smirked as Cub held the receiver slightly away from his ear, cringing as Dr. Lance yelled through the phone.

Cub glared at him, flipping him the finger before sitting on an armchair. He sipped his coffee, despite the verbal beat down he was getting.

Wolf stepped off the couch, and snagged Cub's mug from his hand on his way out. Cub turned in the armchair and gave him a dirty look. And boy, if looks could kill.

* * *

 **That's All Folks!**

 **There's a sequal, _Finally Perfect_ , which is up now.**

 **It will be the last in my _Perfect_ series, but it'll be a bit different. More like a series of connected oneshots, just whatever I think about. Feel free to send me prompts!**

 **It'll be about Alex's life with K unit.**


End file.
